My Old Pal

What happens when you have to say goodbye to an old friend. 300-word flash

My Old Pal

I had her for years. She’d seen me through joy, sorrow and minor illness. But I looked at her today and I knew it was time. She had a blank look about her, did Beulah Jane, like any life she had left had drained out of her.
“Well, old girl, it’s been a good run. Maybe it’s time to retire you.”
BJ gave a creak of protest.
“Don’t worry you won’t end up in the junkyard. Just in a retirement home in the garage.”
She groaned softly.
“I know it’s colder out there and old springs and joints don’t always cooperate. But you’d be lonely and jealous when you saw my new chair .”
I went over to sit in her once more. She seemed to sigh as I sank in. Abruptly, she began to splinter, break and collapse right under me! Had I left it too late, or was the old dame just furious at me!
“Help, I’m trapped!” I yelled at the top of my voice.
My husband rushed down stairs. To my fury, he started to laugh.
“All right, you’ve had your fun, get me outta here!” I roared crossly.
Once he had extricated me, I gave him the full blast of my embarrassment and pain. Then I calmed. My husband did first aid on bumps and bruises while still stifling some laughter at the memory of what I looked like before.
I creakily got up and looked at what was left of BJ. Part of me was sorry she hadn’t made it to furniture retirement. The other part was glad she hadn’t. Putting her in the garage would have only made her ‘health’ worse. Between us, my husband and I bundled her into a large garbage bag and put her in the blue box.